


Incubus

by A_Damned_Scientist



Category: Farscape
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 23:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: Diverging from canon at Incubator (S3). Moya and Pilot take up Linfer's offer leading to huge repercussions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SC96 on Terra Firma.
> 
> An AU, unusually, I think, diverging at Incubator. Funnily I don’t think Ive ever seen a FS fic diverging at this point before, but it seemed perfectly to fit the challenge.
> 
> No beta because I just couldn’t seem to get the time to write so ran out of time with an unfinished ‘framework’ fic. Sadly, I think the title has ended up better than the fic.
> 
> PG for violence and one Earth swearword.
> 
> Words: About 6100
> 
> Not mine and no money made etc.

**Incubus**

  
“So that’s it?” D’Argo huffed. “That’s what Moya has really, truly decided?”Jool stood beside the Luxan, red faced and angry. Both of them shot accusing glares at Crichton while Chiana edged away from her usual spot, close to John’s side, her face betraying her own disgust, or was it shocked disbelief?  
  
“It is,” Pilot admitted, having the decency to look at least a smidgen embarrassed. “And I find myself in complete agreement with her choice.” He forced himself to say, admitting his own feelings despite the fact that he knew his crew would not be happy.  
  
“C’mon, guys...” John tried unsuccessfully to hide his smug grin as he stepped in, as he saw it, to support Pilot and Moya. “It’s not so bad. Talyn can pick us up. Although he may not even have to if I work out how to get you all home soon.”  
  
Jool and D’Argo glared daggers at him while Pilot arched an eyebrow. “Yes, and of course you aren’t exactly upset that Linfer has agreed to tell you all she knows about worm…”  
  
“Hey!” John protested. “Don’t make this about me! This is about what’s best for Moya! We’re not exactly good for her…”  
  
But by now Jool had harrumphed, tossed her hair and begun to flounce out, closely followed by a stomping D’Argo and a skulking Chiana, so they never got to hear the end of John’s attempt at self-justification.  
  
‘~’  
  
“You frellwit, Crichton!” Chiana snarled, glaring at him as she plonked herself down opposite him. Her angry attitude was quite at odds with the bucolic setting – grassy, rolling hills overlooking a deserted and really rather picturesque lake that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a holiday brochure.  
  
“Hey, may I remind you that not 24 arns ago I saved your ungrateful, skinny grey eema from being auctioned off!” John protested with an arched eyebrow, glancing around at Jool and D’Argo for some support. It was not forthcoming.  
“That was yesterday,” Jool countered. “Today you’ve got us kicked out of the only civilised…”  
  
“Civilised?” D’Argo snorted.  
  
“Lighten up. Didn’t I find the perfect spot for us to kick-back and unwind?” John drawled into his brightly coloured drink and leafing through the data pad Linfer had given him before he and the others had left Moya for the last time and taken the module and one transport pod down to LoMo, a weeken earlier.   
  
“Except, you moron, that you and D’Argo have been given two arns to leave!” Jool responded, her hair glowing red with anger.  
  
“Nobody knows we’re up here,” John shrugged. “Chill. No one’s gonna bother us while I do a little wormhole research, and we wait for Junior to come pick us up,”  
  
“That may or may not be true.” D’Argo stated, acting the peacemaker. “However, the rest of us don’t feel that we can take that risk. And as Moya can no longer pick us up, we shall be taking the transport pod and heading off…”  
  
“But what about the minnow?” John interrupted, whining miserably as the implication of D’Argos statement hit him. “She won’t make it to the next system. What will happen to…”  
  
“Frankly, John,” D’Argo gave him the sort of look normally reserved for errant teenagers. “I don’t give a frell.”  
  
“I’m not leaving my module!” John underlined his words with a petulant pout. “No way Jose…”  
  
“What choice do you have?” Chiana pointed out.  
  
“Well, I don’t see how…” D’Argo was again the voice of reason.  
  
“Why don’t you just make a frelling wormhole and go home?” Jool snarled. And with that the other three stood and trooped off back to the pod, leaving him alone to reflect on Why All This Was His Fault.  
  
John sat, watching the walking away and considering Jool’s words. Why not, indeed? These days the others, when they weren’t ignoring him, were bitching at him. They still hadn’t forgiven him for the way he had sided with Linfer in persuading Pilot and Moya to abandon them. And Moya, Moya was now gone. As was Aeryn… Four monens now off with his other half on Talyn. He doubted he would see her again, and if he did, well, he’d slowly come to realise then accept that he would likely be the inconvenient ‘lemon’ in any interactions with her and the copy – by now his Xerox would surely have sealed the deal with her or frelled it up beyond all hope.  
  
So, the future seemed to comprise stuck, with none of his friends for company, on a rock where he was persona non grata or….  Wormholes.  
  
Wormholes it was, then.  
  
 ‘~’  
  
It had been a fabulous couple of monens – nobody had chased, boarded or shot at Moya and the troubled Uncharted Territories had steadily receded into the distance. With every passing day Pilot grew more convinced that they had made the right decision in accepting Linfer’s offer.   
  
But now something unexpected had disturbed their peaceful voyage. Unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome: a faint hail from Talyn had led to a hastily arranged rendezvous. A rendezvous that greatly concerned Linfer.  
  
“We shouldn’t allow them aboard!” Linfer protested as she leant against Pilot’s console.  
  
“I understand your concerns, Linfer,” Pilot told his sole remaining crewmember. “But I assure you that neither Aeryn nor Crais are any longer members of the peacekeepers. They pose us no threat.”  
  
Linfer arched a disbelieving eyebrow. Pilot sighed unhappily. He wasn’t going to – couldn’t afford to -  let the Ralgarian dictate every single aspect of their relationship. “And Aeryn is my very best friend.” He stated with a finality that brooked no further argument.  
  
Linfer clearly wasn’t happy, but he and Moya were in complete agreement: she would have to lump it.  
  
‘~’  
  
“Aeryn would not be happy if she knew that we were talking about her without her knowledge.” Pilot grumbled.  
  
“Well, if she wanted to be part of this conversation then she ought to come out of her room more often,” Linfer sanctimoniously replied.  
  
“This is all beside the point,” Crais raised his hand, trying to act the peacemaker, but hamstrung by the impediment that both Linfer and Pilot so clearly despised him. “Talyn and I are agreed that we no longer wish to pursue this course. So we must ask Officer Sun…”  
  
“Ask me what, Crais?” Aeryn’s voice interrupted from the door at the other end of the walkway. She looked – well she looked better than she had on Valldon, but she still looked frelling awful.  
  
“Simple,” Linfer took the imitative and began to explain as Aeryn made her way across the walkway. “Crais and Talyn are leaving, so it’s time to pack your…”  
  
Aeryn walked straight past the Relgaran as though she wasn’t even there.   
  
“Crais, you and Talyn no longer need me,” she turned her head. “Pilot, Moya is my home. I shall be staying aboard when they leave.”  
  
Linfer fumed but dared not protest. It had never been part of the deal to rid herself of the previous crew of misfits only to replace them with a psychologically damaged and unconvivial ex-Peacekeeper. But it was Pilot and Moya’s choice to invite Aeryn to stay, not hers. So long as they continued with their arrangement to explore Linfer knew that her protests would not be well received, and could even lead to her being asked to leave.  
  
She made one last attempt to appeal to reason, to point out to Sun that she would be happier aboard Talyn than Moya: “Moya, Pilot and I have already reached an agreement that we will be heading away from known space…”  
  
Aeryn turned to acknowledge and address Linfer directly for the first time. “That will be perfectly acceptable to me. I have nothing to return to, after all.”  
  
Linfer smiled sweetly but cursed inwardly. A very unsatisfactory conclusion, but it could have been worse, after all.  
  
End of Part One


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two  
  
John turned off his tablet and savoured the view as his shuttle began its final approach to The Armstrong Space Station. On every visit he never failed to be amazed at how far Earth’s finest engineering minds had developed the limited alien technology that he had brought back home on and in his module. It had been less than five years since his return, and yet here Earth was, on the brink of its first interstellar mission. Well, the first apart from the Farscape 1, of course.  
  
Unfortunately, these days, thanks to his issues with authority and less than fully cooperative attitude in sharing his knowledge, he wasn’t exactly a central part of the Farscape 2 programme.  
  
The Farscape 2, was a very different beast to its predecessor – equipped from the start with a hetch drive, armed with a hotch potch of Earth and Peacekeeper-derived weapons, capable of hosting a crew of 26, including a detachment of eight special forces soldiers, all for up to nine months, it was currently undergoing its final preparations before its maiden flight. And John had, of course, been invited as a special guest to wave her off.  
  
John knew he was only being invited to participate in this maiden flight for PR reasons: Humans might have ventured forth into the wider Universe even earlier if John hadn’t steadfastly claimed to have known nothing about wormholes. The great and the good of his home planet might have thought themselves ready to meet new life and new civilisations, but John had doubts, doubts that he largely kept to himself in order not to be tossed aside by the unstoppable forces that had claimed the hetch drive and the pulse pistol for their own. The few doubts he had expressed, early on, had been enough to sideline him into what amounted to a purely ceremonial role and after that he had been keen not to be excluded further. So he claimed ignorance and kept his thoughts largely to himself.  
  
‘~’  
  
“Welcome aboard,” Captain Houlihan stretched out a welcoming hand and smile as John floated through the docking tube and into the airlock of the Farscape 2. “You’ve met Commander Leary, my XO?” John nodded at the redhead stationed beside Houlihan. “She’ll be giving you the grand tour. We’ll meet you on the bridge at…  0300? That should give us plenty of time before we begin the mission.”  
  
Plenty of time before 0343, John reminded himself: the appointed time for their shakedown-cruise out to Saturn to begin. With the hetch drive, reverse engineered from his module, they’d be home in time for breakfast and, purely coincidentally, of course, for the all-important breakfast news reports on the Eastern seaboard.  
  
And then his role as special advisor and PR-patsy would be over and, on the orders of those way above his pay grade, he’d be sent back to Earth and a life on the celebrity lecture and TV circuit.  
  
‘~’  
  
“This is the perfect spot for wormholes!” Linfer gasped excitedly, taking more readings and not even looking up as Aeryn joined her on Command.  
  
“You know how I feel about wormholes,” Aeryn muttered darkly. Linfer shrugged to indicate that as far as she was concerned Aeryn should deal with her feelings on the issue in silence. “And how Moya feels…” Aeryn added more forcefully. Linfer sighed and turned to face her shipmate. Even after over four cycles together, as each others’ only regular company other than Pilot, they were still far from close friends. And their differing attitudes towards wormholes lay at the core of their inability to bond.  
  
“Moya agreed to help me with my exploration of the Universe. And wormholes are key to that…” Linfer explained as though to a child. Aeryn resisted the urge to Pantak jab her shipmate: Over the cycles Linfer had made it plain that Aeryn’s berth aboard Moya was largely at the whim and indulgence of the Ralgarian. “If you don’t like it, then you are free to…”  
  
“LINFER!” Aeryn interrupted, staring and pointing at the observation portal. Linfer turned in time to see the wormhole opening directly ahead. Its maw was either very, very large, or very, very close. Or perhaps both.  
  
“Pilot!” Linfer cried out.   
  
“Take emergency avoiding…” Aeryn added as they both leapt towards the nearest consoles. But it was too late: Moya’s momentum had already carried her into the cone-like mouth of the spatial phenomenon.  
  
“Pilot! Give me manual control of Moya!” Aeryn ordered. “Now!”  
  
Aeryn didn’t hear a verbal acknowledgment from the great navigator, but as the red joystick rotated up out of the console into her hand no further words were necessary. By the time she had the controls in her hand, Moya’s velocity had already carried her some distance into the wormhole. There seemed little alternative than to fly on.   
  
Aeryn grit her teeth, took control and guided Moya through the swirling blue maelstrom. She struggled to clear her mind, to keep focussed on getting them home, getting them to safety. But she was only partly successful. Wormholes always reminded her of John – both of the one she had lost and of the one who had vanished so long ago.  
  
A curse on John and his frelling wormholes, ruining her life once again!  
  
Then, there it was, just ahead of them, an exit to the wormhole system, the one she had been focussed on finding! Aeryn redoubled her grip on the controls and aimed for the exit.  
  
Moya emerged within sight of an unfamiliar gas giant, just beyond and above the orbit of a spectacularly beautiful set of rings. Aeryn frowned: she thought she had guided them home. The feeling was so strong. Yet this place was entirely unknown to her, unknown to Pilot, to Moya, to Linfer. Surely they should be somewhere safe? Somewhere familiar? Wasn’t that how these things worked? Both Linfer and John had always told her so. So what the frell had happened?  
  
“Officer Sun,” Pilot chimed up, his voice betraying a nervous uncertainty to match her own unease. “It seems we are being hailed…   by name.”  
  
‘~’  
  
John could feel his skin tingling with a familiar yet unsettling sensation a full twenty seconds before Commander Leary announced:  
“Captain! There’s something strange….  Fifty thousand meters ahead and to port!”   
  
John felt his heart pounding in his temple. It couldn’t be. Not here. Not now. Why? It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Not with space being so infinitely vast and all. It was the Universe frelling with him again.  
  
“Back off! Now!” John hissed through gritted teeth. “Is there anywhere we can hide and observe?”  
  
“Quiet! Or get off my bridge!” Captain Houlihan warned him.  
  
“But you don’t understand…”  
  
“No, you don’t!”  
  
“Captain….  Crichton! Is that… a..?”  
  
“Wormhole…” John confirmed, his voice low and quiet through trepidation of what might happen next. “It’s a wormhole…”  
  
“And there’s something…”  
  
“Is that a ship?”  
  
“Isn’t that a Leviathan?” Someone must have remembered the artists’ impressions from John’s debriefings, John decided.  
  
“That’s not just any Leviathan,” John gasped. He impressed himself that even after four years he could still be so sure, that he could tell her apart from others of her species. “That’s Moya.”  
  
‘~’  
  
“It sounds like…” Pilot’s voice faltered but he rallied. “They are speaking Commander Crichton’s language!”  
  
Aeryn’s heart pounded in her throat, her mouth seeming to flap open and closed of its own volition. “Do we have…  visual transmission?” she managed to croak.  
  
“Hmmm,” Pilot grunted in the affirmative. Oh frell. What if it was Crichton? Could it really be Crichton? She wasn’t ready for this. “Putting them through now.”  
  
A familiar face came on the screen. Frell. Frell. Frell. Frell it all to hezmanna and back. It was Crichton. Just when she was starting to think she was getting over him. The old feelings came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm her and buckle her knees in a most unprofessional manner. She couldn’t let Linfer see her show such weakness. She steeled herself to be strong.  
  
“Huh…  Hey John,” she greeted him with a hopeful grin that she didn’t even try to hide. “It’s good to see a familiar face.” She added, trying to sound confident despite lips and mouth turned suddenly as dry as a ship exposed to vacuum.   
  
John’s emotionless expression, his eyes looking anywhere but directly at her, wilted any further greeting or friendly comment she might have made. “Hello Aeryn.” He stated without any hint of affection.  Aeryn felt more hurt than she had in nearly four cycles. “Why are you here?” he added.  
  
‘~’  
  
“I ought to be the one to speak to them,“ John broke with protocol and directly addressed the captain.  
  
“Huh?” came the unexpected reply to his unexpected statement.  
  
“It’s my old ship, I’m absolutely sure of it,” John tried to explain.   
  
“And… so what? It’s been five years?”  
  
“Yeah five years.. it’s a long time. Who knows what’s going on over there, or what they’re thinking. Safest thing is if it’s a familiar face who hails them.”  
  
Houlihan shook his head. “No, we have strict…”  
  
“Look, can your people understand Sebacean?” John allowed himself a slight smile as Houlihan considered John’s argument for a second then nodded.   
  
“Patch him through,” he told the comms officer.  
  
Please let it be Aeryn. Please don’t let it be Aeryn, voices warred in John’s head as the lieutenant fiddled with his instruments to try to get a signal.  
  
After ten seconds or so the big screen at the front of the bridge lit up with a surprisingly clear view of Moya’s Command.   
  
And of Aeryn. Her hair was a bit… a lot… longer, but otherwise she looked little different to how he remembered her.  
  
Damn. Hell. Fuck. Fantastic. Nearly five years and the sight of her still made his stomach do backflips. He’d so thought he was over her. It seemed not. But he couldn’t afford that luxury now. Five years was a long time. Five years with the other guy. Where ever he fitted in he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be a good place. He had to protect himself. Besides, others were watching. Humans, with weapons and a yearning for more. For wormholes. For the tech they imagined they would find aboard Moya.  
  
Maybe for a real, live alien to study. He shuddered.   
  
He had to protect Moya. He had to protect the Moyans, whoever they were now.  
  
And he absolutely had to protect the wormhole knowledge.  
  
Fortunately, there was the language barrier, and that gave him an edge over his fellow humans. He resolved to try to use that advantage as best he could. But he had to make sure not to raise suspicions in the Farscape 2’s crew as to what he was up to.  
  
“Huh…  Hey John,” Aeryn greeted him with a wide grin, her words, perhaps surprisingly given how long she’d been with the other him, spoken in Sebacean. No sign of the other guy. Maybe she’d dumped him? Would that be good or bad? Frell. “It’s good to see a familiar face.”  
  
“Hello Aeryn.” He tried to keep it business like. To protect himself. To protect her. “Why are you here?” He couldn’t allow himself to weaken, not even at the sight of her obviously hurt and confused expression. He had to keep focus, keep detached.  
  
Her jaw flapped, her head tilted and she frowned – he reckoned she was trying to process his rejection of her. But she rallied quickly.   
“Where is here? We had an accident with a wormhole…  I tried to get us safely home…  we shouldn’t be here.”  She burbled. No, here is exactly where you should be John wanted to tell her, but he held his counsel and his icy demeanour.  
  
“This is one of the outer planets in…” then a warning glance from Houlihan and a sudden realisation that he knew nothing about who might be aboard Moya these days made him bite the rest of his sentence. “Never mind. We can discuss it later.”  
  
“Arrange a boarding party,” John saw Houlihan mouth at him, the Captains lips unseeable, his words unhearable aboard Moya. John gave a tiny nod of agreement.  
  
“Hey, Aeryn, I wanna come over. I wanna see you… all.” He swiftly qualified. “And we have to check you out, because, you know, security. Make sure there’s no boojums hiding in Pilot’s den and whatnot.”  
  
Aeryn frowned at the strange human idioms but nodded. “Hammond side docking bay?”  
  
“Great, twenty minutes.” No sooner had John confirmed the arrangement than Houlihan swiped a finger across his throat and the lieutenant cut the transmission.  
  
“OK, people, assessments,” Houlihan ordered.  
  
“They came through a wormhole.”  
  
“If they know about wormholes…  how to make them, how to navigate them…”  
  
“It seems they do…”  
  
“They did come through one.”  
  
“So, wormholes. What about the rest?” Houlihan parked the discussion on wormholes and invited opinions on other subjects.  
  
“She looked human.”  
  
“Was that a Sebacean?” John nodded, unable to avoid the direct question.  
  
“Looks human.”  
  
“Imagine the tech on a ship that size?”  
  
“Indeed,” Houlihan stated. “We cannot let them take that knowledge or that ship away. We have to get both from them. By force if necessary.”  
  
John held his counsel and kept his best poker face. It didn’t stop Houlihan turning to him with another direct question:  
  
“So, what can we expect, Commander? Troop numbers, weapons, the full low-down.”  
  
“What, no! Nothing! Didn’t you read my debriefs? Moya’s a peaceful vessel, tiny crew. No weapons.”  
  
“OK, then one detachment of green berets should be enough to secure her. Lieutenant Reid, assemble your team and take shuttle 2, Commander Keen, I want your squad prepped in shuttle 1 as backup.”  
  
“I should go too,” John forced himself into Houlihan’s circle. Before the captain’s frown could turn into a rebuke he added.  “To translate, and so you can find your way around. It’s a big ship. And I can fly the shuttle,” he added, trying to seal the deal.  
  
Houlihan took a long, deep unhappy breath. “’Kay, looks like Commander Crichton is your pilot, Reid.”  
  
‘~’  
  
John peered through the shuttle’s main screen as the docking web drew shuttle 2 deep into Moya. It felt like he’d never been away. Except he had. For a long, long time. His heart froze as his mind imagined what he might find aboard Moya.   
  
Would Aeryn and the other him have had kids?   
  
The soft thud of the wheels on the deck mercifully interrupted his thoughts.  
  
“Lock and load, guys.” Reid’s words made John’s blood run cold. “Let’s see if we can take this ship without a firefight, huh?”  
  
When the first two soldiers had disembarked with no sound of weapons fire, Reid tapped John on the shoulder. “OK, you’re up. Time for you to translate.”  
  
John dropped to the deck, scarcely able to spare a microt to process the fact that he was back aboard Moya. Soldiers were positioned to each side of him, with two more now spreading out behind. All seemed to have their weapons trained on the two figures who stood, their own weapons raised, at the far and of the bay. One was a blue skinned Sebaceanoid female that after a couple of seconds John recognised as being Linfer, and the other was Aeryn. She looked just as he had expected: Tall, slim, striking, in command and… visibly pissed-off at being confronted with an armed boarding party.  
  
He knew he had to step up and pour oil on troubled waters before somebody decided to up the ante.  
  
“It’s OK, Aeryn!” he advanced, hands raised.  
  
“It’s not frelling OK, Crichton!” Aeryn barked back. “Lower your weapons!”  
  
“They can’t understand you..!”  
  
“Then you tell them to do it!”  
  
John shook his head. “They won’t listen to me. Please, Aeryn, stand down. These guys are pros. I don’t rate even your chances against four of them!”  
  
There was a long, tense silence marked only by the Green Berets taking up better positions.  
  
“Please…  trust me, it’ll be fine… I promise.” He knew it was a lie. Surely she suspected it was a lie, too, but what else was to be done? She was ridiculously outgunned and although she was a peacekeeper and defending her home turf, it was clear that the humans were far from amateur soldiers themselves. “Please…”  
  
Aeryn nodded and grunted something to Linfer and together they lowered their weapons. John breathed a massive sigh of relief. He wasn’t happy with the outcome, but things could have easily gone so much worse. At least this way they stood a chance of being able to pick their moment.  
  
Or so he hoped.  
  
End of Part Two 


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

The walk to the bridge, under the watchful gaze and lowered-but-still-threatening guns of Reid and his three Green Berets, was an uneasy one.

“So, when’d you join Linfer?” John asked, finding himself walking alongside Aeryn and just behind the blue female.

“A few monens after you left,” Aeryn replied. From her frown and uncomfortable manner she was obviously wrestling with her thoughts and emotions, whatever they might be. Maybe she had expected something different from their reunion? Maybe she was preoccupied with the soldiers conducting a low-violence take-over of her ship? Either way, it would have to wait till later when they had time for personal indulgences. If that wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part.

“And everyone else? Crais? Rygel….? Him?” He spared a sideways glance at just the right moment to catch her reaction: a sharp intake of breath, a clenching of the jaw, an upwards tilt of the head as she put on what he still recognized as her ‘game face.’

“He’s dead, John. A long time ago.” Her voice was flat, obviously trying too hard to hold herself together and display no emotions. And in doing so she was broadcasting that she was struggling not to be overwhelmed by her feelings. “It’s just me and Linfer aboard.”

“I’m sorry… was… were you close?” They turned into the last but one corridor before Command. John was almost grateful at the prospect of being able to escape what their conversation was developing into.

“Does it matter?” Aeryn sighed. “Yes, yes we were. Perfect.”

“Pfff,” John snorted in unconcealed disgust and anger. “Perfect? Aint that just… perfect?” He muttered to himself, although Aeryn, naturally heard him and picked up on it.

“It’s been five long cycles, John. The first was the worst – grieving for you,” she sighed and took a deep breath, before launching into what constituted a major speech from the taciturn ex-peacekeer. “But since then I’ve spent so many long, long days and nights contemplating you, both of you. The chances I lost. We lost. Wondering where you’d gone. Coming to realise the fact that you are the same man. That there is no longer any distinction in my mind between you.”

Damn, he couldn’t let the humans think there was anything between him and Aeryn – if they did, his chances of getting them away safely would lie in ruins. His only choice seemed to be to break her heart to protect her.

“Give it up, Aeryn,” knowing his words to her would be overheard, counting on it. “You left me. I’ve moved on. For my own protection, Aeryn. You came, and you went. And I couldn’t handle the spaces in between. You chose him. It’s over. Give it up.”

There was a long silence until they turned into the final corridor before Command. 

“I take it you made it home and these are your people?” Aeryn ventured, choosing not to engage with his rejection.

John shrugged then realised he could actually hint to her that his plans diverged from theirs: “Yes and no. Do you remember Cobb?”

Aeryn stopped in her tracks and stared at him. John nodded slowly as an understanding passed between them, and only them. Her jaw worked silently. He nodded almost imperceptibly. It would have to suffice, for now.

“Are they ancients?” she asked, obviously referring to the humans.

“No,” he shook his head. “If only.”

“C’mon,” Reid shoved Aeryn gently towards Command. She turned and glared at him but complied.

“Nice,” whistled the corporal, eyes wide and appreciative at the wondrous sight greeting them as they entered Command.

“This is the ship’s bridge?” Reid asked John, who nodded affirmative. “Where are the chairs?”

John laughed at that and shook his head. “You know, that’s a funny thing… Chalk one up for primitive Earthlings, I guess?”

Reid’s stony façade actually crumbled a little at that. “Fair enough,” he sniggered, perching himself on the edge of the strategy table. “Ask them what they know of wormholes.” He waved his weapon casually to indicate that he was referring to Aeryn and Linfer.

“Nothing, I’d imagine. Who does?”

“Humour me. Ask them…”

John sighed. “They can understand you perfectly well, I just need to translate…”

“Fine,” Reid turned to face Linfer and Aeryn, who were standing by one of the control consoles, flanked by a huge soldier called Lopez. “What do you know of wormholes?”

“Pretty much everything,” Linfer confirmed to John with a broad smile. “Everything worth knowing. Much as you do, Commander Crichton.”

“Nothing. They don’t know squat. They got here by accident.” John flapped his arms to emphasise his imaginary disappointment. “Just like I did. Not our lucky day.”

“Is that so?” Reid drawled, getting to his feet and prowling to and fro before the females, trying to stare them down. Linfer lowered her gaze but, as expected, Aeryn stared defiantly straight back at him. “You! Is that what she said? One blink for yes, two for no.”

John held his breath. Please let the girls have caught on to his plan, such as it was. Aeryn raised an eyebrow and slowly, deliberately, blinked once. Bingo! Good girl!

“Fine.” Reid wheeled away. “At least we’ve got the ship. I take it you can fly her?” He directed at John. Frell! John thought quickly: best keep them ignorant of Pilot, that ignorance could be useful to them. And if he could convince Reid to keep Aeryn at large, all the better. “Lopez, cuff the women and…”

“No, no, Aeryn’s the pilot,” John protested. “And there’s cells not three minutes’ walk from here we can stow the blue chick in. Easier that way. I can show Lopez…”

“Fine, do it. Take Chavez and leave him on guard.” As John readied to leave he saw Reid activate his radio to speak to the Farscape 2.

“Reid here… Ship’s secure, two female crew... Both in custody…. Copy that…. I’ll check their pilot can follow you back to Earth and get back to you…”

‘~’

John wasn’t at all surprised that when he and Lopez returned, Reid and Private Farmer were not standing to greet them. Instead, as they re-entered command, Aeryn stepped out of the shadows, pulse pistol levelled at them.

“I wouldn’t…” John began to warn Lopez, but the Green Beret’s training was too ingrained. The soldier immediately reacted, diving, rolling, trying to get a shot in on Aeryn. John had no option but to jump atop him, struggling to disrupt his aim.

The fray must have only lasted a couple of seconds – John had learnt a lot of moves in his three years in the Uncharted Territories, but he was rusty and no match for Lopez. Fortunately he wasn’t alone in the fight. Just when he thought that the soldier might truly injure him there was a sickening thud as Aeryn’s boot connected with the back of the man’s head. 

He went down like a sack of potatoes.

“Are you alright?” Aeryn asked as john struggled to extricate himself from beneath the unconscious lump.

“Yeah, fine… Thanks.”

“The other two are cuffed, over there,” Aeryn explained, offering a hand to help John to his feet. He considered it for a moment, then grateful took it.

“Fine, let’s add Chewie to the pile, then we can go sort out the other one and turf these bozos off the boat, huh?” 

“Was that your plan all along?” Aeryn asked, not managing to hide her incredulity that he should have had such a ridiculous and dangerous plan.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” he asked her with a grin. She snorted with derision in reply. That was all it took. The damn broke. He stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug. “I missed you!” he almost sobbed into her thick, beautiful hair as, somewhat woodenly, she returned the hug. But at least she returned it. It was a start

“Me too…” she said, then suddenly ducked out and pushed him away. “But that’s not important right now, John. We’ve work to do.”

John gave a sad, longing sigh but nodded his agreement. All things considered, he could hardly grumble and protest, after all.

‘~’

“Reid, what’s going on?” John heard Houlihan over Reid’s snurched radio. Frell! He made sure the transmit was switched off and addressed Linfer and Aeryn, who were helping him load the invading humans back aboard their shuttle.

“Commander, Aeryn, Linfer,” Pilot hailed them over their own comms. “The Ooman ship has just launched a second shuttle.”

“Oh no not again!” John sighed, earning a questioning glance from both females, which Aeryn recovered from more quickly, her frown soon fading to a grin.

“OK, ladies, best get a wiggle on, they’re getting suspicious and they’re sending more troops. Time to turf the shuttle out the airlock and blow this popsicle stand.”

Aeryn nodded and levered the unconscious Lopez into his seat.

“Is Crichton always so… incomprehensible?” Linfer asked, her confusion and irritation evident as she made a quick visual survey of the cabin. 

"Huh," Aeryn grunted in the affirmative, but then treated John to a half-smile that, if not exactly radiant, was at least glowing.

“Pilot, as soon as we say we’re clear, engage starburst. I don’t care where, just the frell away from here!” Aeryn told him through her comms.

“Affirmative, Aeryn,” the giant lobster space navigator was heard to reply.

‘~’

“Sir!” Commander Leary announced, stating what was plain for all to see. “It looks like Shuttle 2 has just left the Leviathan!”

“What’s going on!?” Houlihan angrily demanded to be told. “Leary? Reid? Crichton? ANYONE!?” but even as he spoke, a strange, crackling light seemed to appear at the tip of the ship’s tail, rapidly spreading forwards until the whole…

“What the…” Houlihan began, even as a swirling blue maw, not entirely dissimilar, yet still different from, the wormhole that had so recently spat the leviathan forth, opened at the ship’s bow. Silently, swiftly, the alien ship slid into the anomaly and before anyone could draw breath, it was gone, leaving Farscape 2 and Shuttle 2 the only ships left circling Saturn. 

“….fuck!” Houlihan concluded.

‘~’

“You shouldn’t be here…”Linfer grumbled at John. “You can’t stay. We had an agreement!”

“That was five frelling cycles ago!” Aeryn protested, showing her determination not to let the spareJohn who had so fortuitously fallen into her lap slip away.

“If I may interject!” Pilot interrupted the ongoing argument which was taking place right in front of him, as though he wasn’t there and he and Moya had nothing to say on the matter.

“Yes, Pilot,” Aeryn encouraged. John remained silent, knowing that there was little he could say that would sway anyone’s mind.

“With all due respect, Linfer, Moya and I feel that we have more than fulfilled our arrangement with you. Although we are quite happy to continue with you as a passenger, we cannot agree with you having permanent veto regarding who is or is not welcome aboard.”

“But, we…”

“Do you feel your bargain of five years ago constituted some sort of life-long ownership of Moya and I?” Pilot arched an eyebrow and stared at Linfer. “Because if that is the case…” The Ralgarian had the good sense and decency to demure.

“Good. Then we are in agreement.”

“Up to a point…” John snarked.

“Not now, John,” Aeryn warned him off.

“Fine,” Linfer grumped. “So what happens next?”

“That,” Aeryn stated slowly, looking directly at John and, as far as the human could tell, referring to things other than the crew and mission of Moya. “Is something we shall have to take our time to decide. There’s no need to rush. But I think things will be fine. Don’t you agree John?”

And indeed he did.

 

The end


End file.
